I wear socks all the time because
I like to have them on
And I collect them, as some might
Collect Louis Vuitton
I’ve always been this way, its not
Just because I am old
I wear socks all the time because
I don’t like my feet cold
Tag: Poetry
Inappropriate Poetic Subjects #12 – On The Discovery of Homophonic Tunes
From the other room, he asked
Is that the ‘ABC Song’
or
‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’?
And she said
‘Yes’
To share is human:
still life
she didn’t believe in
the genre she worked in
for after her break up
she swore
there was no longer
still life
To share is human:
concentric
in circles within circles,
in ancient epicycles,
there is a type of freedom
a journey archetypal
divisions that we focus on
are dotted lines we draw in space
for all the spinning that we do
we end in the same place
= = = = =
Photo credit : © Clivewa | Dreamstime.com – Concentric – An Abstract Painting Photo
To share is human:
The Ghost of Johannes Brahms
I had an unfortunate visit today
Just as I had sat down to attempt to play
Some classical pieces I learned in my youth
A knock on the door came. And I said, “Forsooth!”
For it was a ghost of a peculiar stripe
The romantic germanic crotchety type
Who said that he’d heard (and I guess I will quote)
That I had just murdered a piece that he wrote
Just some Intermezzo. I thought it was fine.
When he looked at me with disgust, and said, “Nein!
Das ist nicht gut!” or some other such smack
To indicate I was a horrible hack
Which I guess is true. I can say without qualms
That I cannot blame the old ghost of J. Brahms
For coming down here and trying to save face
For playing his music sans notes and sans grace
To share is human:
The Future, All The Time
My life is in the future all the time.
I’ve earned my keep predicting things for years;
It’s only out here I spend time in rhyme,
And look around, or back, on loves & fears
I’ve often said some thing would come to be,
And lived to see the days when it was so;
Fair frequent, with increase in misery,
As it was not how I’d wish things to go
Some wisdom in this prompt I think I find;
For knowing how my life has gone most recently,
I see that much that crowds my daily mind
Shoves out enjoyments I’m too dense to see
For future thoughts, be they painful or pleasant,
Choke off what life their might be
In the present
(.T.)
To share is human:
The Same Old Tune
I stand by this door and hold
Scraps of paper in my hand
Telling of the life and times
Of a single much-loved man
I hand one to each who enters
They sit down on wooden seats
Thinking of the sleeping knight whose
True kind heart no longer beats
Gone from us without a warning
Gone to travel, far too soon
We, too deaf to hear it coming
Strains of death’s familiar tune
To share is human:
Love Cross
I’d not only cross any bridge for you
I’d spend the million years or so
It takes to build it
